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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26527522">a broken room key</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/lex_the_flex17/pseuds/lex_the_flex17'>lex_the_flex17</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Call Me By Your Name (2017) RPF, Timothée Chalamet - Fandom, timothee chalamet x reader - Fandom</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 05:14:59</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,593</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26527522</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/lex_the_flex17/pseuds/lex_the_flex17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Summary: After losing your room key, and with your boyfriend spamming your phone with drunk texts, your crush, Timotheé helps you out.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>timothee chalamet x reader</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>a broken room key</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Author’s Note: this is my first fic that I’ve ever posted. So if you like it, please be considerate and follow my tumblr at lex-the-flex for more! Enjoy!</p><p>Warnings: None! Major fluff</p><p>Word Count: 1.5k</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Part I </p><p>Closing your laptop, you down the last bit of your lukewarm coffee and pack your notebooks, charger, and water bottle into your bag. Swinging your backpack over your right shoulder, you grab your jacket and head to the restroom before leaving the cafe. After refreshing your mascara, you step out into the main seating area and eye the clock which reads 11:24 pm. </p><p>‘Okay, I should make it to the room before midnight and beat the storm.’ You said to yourself. </p><p>Before you can head out the door, your phone buzzes in your hand. A text pops up on the screen. </p><p>‘Heu, whre ar ou?’ </p><p>Ugh, it was your boyfriend, Jake. And he was drunk. Again. </p><p>You silently curse at him Jake was supposed to be on his best behavior as he promised not to go out partying or drinking with friends. You recently finished an incredibly busy semester with pulling all nighters and spending multiple hours with your nose shoved in a textbook just to get the endless amount of assignments and papers done on time. The stress was finally floating away as your parents asked you to New York to spend the long weekend with them. They extended the invitation to Jake as he was your first serious boyfriend and they had heard nothing but good things about him. Once you landed in New York, Jake offered you to stay at his apartment, but you booked a room at the Whitby Hotel. You wanted a day to yourself, maybe to get some extra rest. </p><p>Not wanting to answer him, you put your phone away. You couldn’t deal with him right now. Just as you open to cafe doors, it starts pouring rain. Rushing back to the Whitby, the cold rain soaks through your jeans, part of your sweater, and it runs through your socks, making the rest of the jog uncomfortable. Passing through a few small groups of people, a businessman accidentally bumps into you. The man quietly apologizes as you adjust your hood and force the jacket’s zipper all the way up. Stopping underneath a nearby awning, you check your phone. Jake hasn’t sent anything else. Thank God. <br/>After a few minutes, you finally reach the Whitby. Quickly pacing through the modern lobby doors, the freezing AC rams in your face as you walk through the lobby and smile at the security guards toward the elevators. Unzipping your jacket, water droplets fall from your hair and slide down your forehead as your phone buzzes in your bag. Checking the device, a message pops up from your mom. Reading the text, your heart flutters with glee. Your parents won’t be returning to New York for another day due to an unexpected meeting on their business trip. So they’ve given you another day to yourself. You widely smile and jump with excitement as the elevator doors open on the eleventh floor. </p><p>Walking down the hall to your room’s door, you open the front pocket of your bag and start searching for the room key. After a long minute, you find nothing. Your brows crease as you take out your phone, headphones, and chapstick, but there was no room key. You were screwed. The room key was the only spare and the employees didn’t give out any more than two per person. Sliding to the floor, you lean against the door as tears start to fill your eyes. You begin to run a million different scenarios in your head, trying to figure out what to do. But you came up empty, you had nowhere to go. </p><p>Fighting off tears, the last bit of your excitement drains into the freshly cleaned carpeted floor. Hugging your shoulders, you shiver from your wet clothes as the dampness has finally gotten to your skin. Leaning your head against the door, your phone begins to furiously vibrate on the floor. Thinking it would be your parents, you turn it on as your fingers shake to input the pin. The texts weren’t from your parents, they were from Jake. </p><p>‘Answe me.’ ‘Y/n ansr m plese.’ ‘Whre the fuck ar ou?’ ‘FukInG AnSeE!!’ ‘Ur at he Whiby riht?’ ‘U knw Tiothe is thre rigt?’ </p><p>Holy fuck. He was completely hammered. Jake should never have a phone in his hand when he’s drunk. You knew this, and he knew it too, but he didn’t care. </p><p>Throwing your phone to the other side of the hallway, you cover your face with your knees, and try to come up with a backup plan. Everything you could come up with didn’t seem to work and more tears began to bubble to the surface.</p><p>“Y/n?” A voice calls out to you from where you threw your phone. </p><p>Looking up, one of your best friends who you’ve had a crush on for a while, Timothée Chalamet stands in the hallway with an ice bucket in his left hand. </p><p>“Hi, Timothée. How are you?” You ask as you sneakily wipe away a tear. </p><p>Walking to you, he picks up your phone from where it landed on the floor. </p><p>“You okay? What are you doing out here?” He asked and returns your phone to you. </p><p>“I’m fine. Just can’t find my room keys. And I’m not really having the best night…” You begin to trail off with a little forced laugh. </p><p>“Are you locked out?” Timothée asked you with his eyebrows creasing. </p><p>Looking up at Timothée, you feel like crying all over again. But you had to hold it in. You never wanted to cry in front of an attractive young man as himself. So instead, you let out a heavy sigh. </p><p>“Yeah, I’m locked out.” You answer with a scoff and pat your knees. </p><p>Extending his free hand to you, a smirk escapes your lips before taking it. </p><p>“Why don’t you stay with me tonight? We can figure something out tomorrow. It seems like something ticked you off.” He says as you pick up your backpack. </p><p>Oh if only he knew. </p><p>Following him down the hall, he leads you into the room he appears to be staying in. The room is cozy in its own way, despite a suitcase and a duffel bag with clothes scattered all around the bed, a few empty plastic water bottles on the desk, and some discarded food boxes. He sets down the ice bucket on the desk and offers to take your backpack before he walks to his suitcase and grabs some clean clothes for you. </p><p>“Here.” Timothée said as he passed a t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants over to you. “I’m not sure if the sweatpants will fit, but it’s all I have at the moment.” He explained with a smile. </p><p>“Thanks, I appreciate it.” You replied before heading to the bathroom. </p><p>Quickly changing out of your clothes, you quietly realized that the drawstring for the sweatpants was a little tattered. But it didn’t matter, you were happy to be in comfortable clothes. Leaving the bathroom you meet Timothée at the couch in the tiny living room. He offered you a glass of water, which you gladly took. Sitting across from him, you could hear your phone going off on the desk. </p><p>“Your phone keeps going off. Is something important happening?” Timothée asks. </p><p>Reaching for your phone, you turn it on to find more drunken texts and voicemails from Jake. Sighing at your boyfriend’s annoyance, you mute the phone.</p><p>“Jake’s drunk. He thinks now is a good time as any to spam me. He’s supposed to be meeting my parents the day after tomorrow. But I don’t think that’s going to happen. I’m starting to think he isn’t good enough for me. One of his last texts he sent was asking if you were here. I’m beginning to get the impression that Jake thinks I’m cheating on him.” You explain, running your index finger over the rim of the glass. </p><p>Timothée scoots closer to you and wraps his arm around you. </p><p>“You deserve so much more than some guy who finds solace at the bottom of an empty bottle. Jake shouldn’t have some beautiful girl if he plans on making her life miserable. I know you’d never cheat on anyone. When you first told me he asked you out, I was a little jealous. I know that I introduced you two, but now I kind of regret it.” He explains. </p><p>You take your mind off the melting ice cubes in the glass and gaze at Timothée. </p><p>“What? No, you shouldn’t have to deal with him, this is my responsibility. Our relationship was great in the beginning, but I wish we’d…” You trail off as a lump rises in the back of your throat.</p><p>You take a deep breath to make it go away and Timothée takes the glass from you and sets it down. He covers your hands with his own. </p><p>“You wish we’d what?” He asked you as he blinked a few times. </p><p>“I really like you. I always have, but I never had the courage to tell you. I wish I’d told you sooner.” You reply, with tears streaming down your cheeks. </p><p>He takes your face in his hands and carefully rubs your tears away. He smiles widely before he kisses you softly. </p><p>“I’ve always liked you too. What do you say we talk about this over breakfast tomorrow?” He asked you. </p><p>“I’d love nothing more.” You chuckle. </p><p>Wrapping your arms arounds each other, you decide to spend the rest of the night watching a movie before falling asleep on the couch.</p>
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